


Taste

by upinsm0ke



Category: NASCAR RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-02
Updated: 2013-09-02
Packaged: 2017-12-25 09:38:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/951560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/upinsm0ke/pseuds/upinsm0ke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miles the Monster isn't the only trophy Tony takes home after Dover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taste

steve tastes like beer when he kisses him, rough and without hesitation and tony thinks he's never been so happy to have the dull sting of stale beer on his tongue in all his life. his firesuit is still drenched in coke and champagne and he can practically hear the gears spinning in steve's head when he pins him against the wall of the hauler -- _these are nice clothes, you're gonna get them all wet and i'm gonna have to change *again*_ and maybe that's exactly what tony wants.

he's practically daring steve to turn him down and tell him to fuck off but an excuse never comes. steve chooses to tug at the short hair on the back of his head instead and pull their mouths back together. and fuck, it's so good, so amazing kissing him, running high off the adrenaline rush of a victory. it's his way to show appreciation but steve thinks better of it. _i knew we could do it. it was only a matter of time._

"you drove your ass off out there, kid." he's called him that since the day they met despite the six year difference he has on him. it's...endearing, even if he rolls his eyes when he hears it.

"that was all you. that call saved us. probably saved our season." tony wasn't usually an optimist. he isn't a fool to believe one win is going to turn his season around, but not having to carry that chip around on his shoulder into the next week is enough to make him enjoy it for now.

"you're a fucking genius." he continues between kisses pressed to the column of steve's throat and he's never been so happy to be away from hundreds of cameras and reporters and fans.

"wouldn't go that fa-" tony interrupts him with another kiss, distracts him with skilled hands pulling at the belt around his waist and the zipper of his jeans.

"when's the last time you ever won an argument against me?" tony's far too smug for steve to win -- this time at least -- and it doesn't help that he has his boxers shoved aside and is stroking him relentlessly. steve had to give tony credit for that; he might be a little shit, but he knows all the ways to reduce him to a whimpering, desperate mess.

steve drops a kiss to tony's cheek, hips casually rocking into the friction that impossible hand is creating. "thought you followed mean green back to her RV." because he can't mention her by name and maybe he was jealous as all hell when she showed up in victory lane and hugged tony longer than what was necessary and doesn't she have a boyfriend?

there's a devious smirk on tony's face when he sinks to his knees in front of his crew chief, staring up at him with arousal written all over his face and how could he possibly think danica would be his priority right now? "who's saying i won't later?" he says it mostly just to watch steve squirm (because it's infuriating that steve has him wrapped around his finger like this) and he's so pleased with himself when it works.

"fuck you." steve's fingers tighten their grip on his hair and push his mouth towards his erection and yeah, that's exactly what he wants. there's a sense of urgency as he sucks steve's dick into his mouth, lips stretching around hot, hard flesh and he nearly gags when that insistent hand pushes his head down further. steve's a goddamn son of a bitch when it comes to blowing him and he'll never admit that he lets his mind wander to that beautiful cock during driver meetings and on race day, during caution laps, to break up the monotony. steve's too fucking egotistical to ever let him live it down.

now, he's got hips bucking against his face and it's all tony can do to keep up. he stops long enough to teasingly suck at the head of his dick and the loud whimper steve gives is fucking hot as hell. tony almost wishes they had more time, that he could stop now and let steve finish with his cock in his ass. but they have media obligations and a flight back to charlotte and he needs this over quick.

one last thrust hits the back of his throat and he sputters and it's enough to send steve right over the edge. tony pulls off in time to receive a face full of cum and he doesn't have to open his eyes to know steve's got a grin that's a mile wide.

"fucker..." tony spits out, even as he licks at thick, white cum dripping down his chin.

steve's already zipping up his jeans by the time he gets back to his feet, chuckling evily as he gestures to the bulge at the front of tony's firesuit. "better clean up quick. we're already late." and tony wants to argue that the media can wait, but steve's already making his way to the door.

\---

tony comes strolling into the presser fifteen minutes late (that was expected) and settles into the chair between zippy and steve as if he hadn't just spent the last ten minutes sucking off his crew chief. when a question is directed towards steve, questioning his strategy to take two tires on the final restart, he scribbles a little note on a piece of paper and subtly passes it to his left. _i can still taste your cock._

the way steve blushes and stammers over his answer is the best revenge in the world.


End file.
